


TNT Kiss

by genmitsu



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bombs, First Kiss, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 12:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Written for Gobblepot Spring 2019Set roughly after Season 4---Being handcuffed to James Gordon wasn’t supposed to be exciting, and yet even the ticking of the bomb couldn’t distract Oswald from how good it felt - now, if only the circumstances were a little bit different…





	TNT Kiss

 

Being handcuffed to James Gordon wasn’t supposed to be exciting, and yet even the ticking of the bomb couldn’t distract Oswald from how good it felt - now, if only the circumstances were a little bit different…

“Would you pick it up?” Jim growls.

Yeah, so much for trying to enjoy even that small bit of closeness.

“I’m trying, James,” he hisses back. “It’s not exactly easy for me here.”

“I know. Sorry,” Jim subsides unexpectedly. “It just feels I’m losing circulation, not going to be much use then.”

“Just a little more, Jim,” Oswald says and bites on his lower lip. It’s too difficult like this…

 

Jeremiah didn’t have to go that hard on those handcuffs. Oswald was not only cuffed, his handcuffs were interlocked with the pair on Jim’s wrists, and also Jim’s right wrist was secured to a pipe overhead with an extra pair. Talk about excessive… and the fact that Oswald’s arms were raised and he was pressed to Jim by the sheer laws of physics. Better not remember other laws of physics. Such as friction, and the effect it could…

“What is the meaning of this, Mr. Valeska?” was the first thing he asked when he came around and saw those weird eyes fixed on them. Not his best moment, in hindsight, but what else could he do? “Is this the way to treat your business partners?”

“My dear Mr. Cobblepot. There seems to be a misunderstanding between us,” Jeremiah said, that habit of speaking deliberately slowly especially annoying in these circumstances. “You see, I have been warned that you tend to favour Detective Gordon over your other liaisons, so I never considered you my full partner. I suppose I should offer my apologies.”

“Untying me would do, thank you very much,” Oswald said with a little more venom than intended. Jim stirred then, distracting him, and blinked his eyes open, and stared at him, only turning away when Jeremiah started talking again.

“Hmm… I don’t believe I shall. Detective Gordon has been a thorn in my side for far too long, and, as you seem to enjoy his company so much, it is only fitting that you should share his fate as well. And now… I shall bid you adieu.”

Jeremiah inclined his head at them, that politeness a mockery, utter mockery, and pressed a button on some device near the door as he left. The bright red numbers were visible even from their side of the room. Ten minutes, and counting down.

Thank Heavens he didn’t need to bring Jim up to speed. One of the reasons he loved Jim was his quick thinking, his resourcefulness. And they needed both of theirs now.

They couldn’t dislodge the pipe even with their combined weight - oh, that sweet, sweet pressing of their bodies, that delightful physical friction Oswald couldn’t even take time to enjoy - and then Jim looked him over in contemplation.

“Your tie pin,” he said. “Let’s try it.”

And before Oswald could react, Jim leaned close to him and pulled the tie pin with his teeth, never once noticing how Oswald’s heart skipped a beat, or a dozen.

“H-How do you intend to get it to your hands, Jim?” he asked, his voice suddenly higher in pitch. Jim just raised his eyebrows, glanced up to their hands and then he - he pulled up, just like that, this epitome of physical perfection, bracing himself on the pipe as much as he could to save his wrists, and gestured for Oswald to take the pin.

“Your hands are in better position,” he said after lowering himself back. “And my cuffs are too tight, I’d just drop it.”

Oswald nodded, and set to work. He was terribly nervous he’d drop the pin himself, and even though he was still pressing flush to Jim, that didn’t break his focus. Too much depended on him getting free, so he worked the pin in the keyhole, carefully feeling around the lock until he felt that slight click - and he managed to unlock first his left wrist, then his right. It felt so good to finally lower his arms. Then he glanced back at the bomb. 7 minutes left.

Oswald managed to unlock the first pair of cuffs on Jim’s wrists, freeing his left hand, but the last one proved to be a lot more complex, definitely not the standard pair they were both familiar with. The fact that Jim was pulled to the pipe and had to practically stand on his toes didn’t help either, not with the extra inches the detective had over Oswald.

5 minutes.

 

“Oswald,” Jim says in a tone that commands attention and is soft at the same time. “You have to get out of here while there’s still time.”

“What the hell are you saying, Jim?” Oswald glares at him, standing on tiptoe again to try and get to that keyhole.

“Face it, you’re not getting me out in time, and then we’ll both be dead!”

“I’m not. leaving. you. Jim,” Oswald grinds through his teeth. “So shut up if you can’t help me.”

Jim sighs. “Knew you were a stubborn little shit.”

“Yeah,” Oswald bites his lip again, reaching up. His arms are aching and the ticking behind his back doesn’t help.

“Here,” Jim says and picks him up with his free arm, pressing him closer still - and getting him those few extra inches. “But hurry, I won’t be able to hold you like that for long.”

Oswald _feels_ the extra tension his weight puts on Jim, the way his limbs tremble as he tries to hold them both. He sees the keyhole better now, something about it wrong, so he must work it differently than the others. Jeremiah, always too clever for his own good. Tick. Tick. Tick, goes the bomb. Oh, when he gets his hands on that pale-faced freak! Tick. Tick. Tick. When would the lock click? Why won’t it just give in already. Tick. Tick. Tick.

_Click._

It finally turns, it finally gives in to his onslaught, and Jim jerks his hand down, freeing himself, and they both stare at each other for a moment before the bomb ticks again behind them.

1 minute.

Their run through the maze of corridors is the stuff of nightmares. Jim seems familiar with their turns and he pulls Oswald forward relentlessly, and Oswald tries his best to keep up, as fast as his bad leg allows him, and his throat is hurting and there doesn’t seem to be enough air, and then they finally reach a door that opens to the outside, and Jim pushes him through it mere moments before the explosion.

 

There’s ringing in his ears.

Oswald blinks a few times, the sky dull grey above him. Must be what purgatory looks like, he thinks, because he shouldn’t be alive right now, not really. Is he dead?

There’s… there’s dirt on his face and an ache in his left arm, but…

_Jim!_

Oswald sits up, his head spinning immediately, but he forces himself to look around. The debris are everywhere, broken slabs of concrete, pieces of wood, all that rubble. But…

“Jim?” he calls out, his voice suddenly weak. He can’t see any traces of blood, yet, so maybe, maybe… “Jim? Are you there?”

Then there’s something blue in front of him, so blue even the sky in spring can’t match this colour, and then Jim beams at him, bright, brighter than the sun.

“We made it!” he laughs and grasps Oswald’s shoulders. “You stubborn son of a bitch, you saved us both!”

Then Jim pulls him forward, or maybe he leans towards him, or maybe it’s both, but their lips meet and Oswald feels alive, most definitely, his soul revived by the movement of Jim’s mouth against his, hungry and yearning and vigorous as only life itself could be. The warmth that explodes in Oswald’s chest could rival the explosion they’ve survived, because this doesn’t feel like Jim only acting in the spur of the moment, his touch too sensual, too needy - and Oswald just can’t resist its pull. His hand finds its way into Jim’s hair, silky soft and a tactile delight, and Jim gets even closer as he moves to deepen their kiss, so Oswald can only moan his consent getting pressed to the ground by Jim’s hot weight.

Gravity’s the best law of physics there is, Oswald thinks, answering Jim’s kisses and moans.

The only law he’s going to abide by.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It certainly feels like forever since I posted anything.  
> I hope you enjoyed this little story :)  
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated, too!


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